The Life and Death of Thorin Oakenshield
by Gabrielle607
Summary: This is the story of a king, a curse, and the queen that he will meet in another time in another place, with another name and anther face -she will be his life and his death. Modern AU of The Hobbit. Rated T for cursing and foul language.
1. chapter 1

**Tell me what you think of the prologue of this story :)**

Great deeds such as slaying a dragon, saving a princess, and dying on the battlefield with glory oft becomes stories parents tell their children. Those stories are often passed down to their children, down to their grandchildren, and unto their great grandchildren until they turn into legends, and eventually, they become nothing but myths.

But this is not a story about great deeds.

This is the story of a king, and his immortal curse.

It all began when this king reclaimed his homeland from a dragon, along with twelve other members in his company. He was crowned king a few weeks after that, and he married a queen, who soon became the love of his life. His reign was prosperous and peaceful, and the king was happy and content with his life.

But happiness often lowers our defenses and makes us vulnerable.

Once evil began to spread on the land once more, it found its way to the king's heart. This evil corrupted his heart and made him lust for gold once again, making him corrupt with all his power. When the time came to fight this evil, fight he did -but not even its destruction can undo the damage that was done on the king's heart and mind.

The people thought that his greed and ignorance would go away along with the evil in the world, but it remained rooted in his heart, where even his wife cannot reach. The king eventually became delusional, and was disgusted with his wife. He thought that her attempts to get him away from work and towards food and their marriage bed are attempts to take his power away. So one day, he ordered for the queen to be stripped down to her skin and to be chained down in the center of the market plaza, where all can see. She was accused of treason, and was asked to confess it.

"The only treason I have committed against this kingdom is that I was not able to stop this poison that entered your heart." The queen said, and for that, she was shot straight at her heart. That was the last straw for his people and they rebelled against the king. They broke down the doors to the throne room and killed the king. They dumped his corpse in the same lake where the dragon that took his homeland rots. They crowned a new king, and life went on, the name of the king forbidden and forgotten in the kingdom he once ruled.

This did not happen without the surveillance of the gods, and they were furious, understanding, and merciful towards the king and his kingdom. The gods decided to bring upon them the end of the world, for desecrating their hero's corpse like that is a great offense, for no matter how evil the king was, he was a living being, and deserved respect, at least in his death. But they were rewarded for fighting against evil, so they were promised life after death.

For the king, he was punished for his evil acts, so the gods brought him back to life and promised him an eternal life, no matter what he tries to do. This will be his punishment and read, for he will watch his enemies and loved ones die. But the gods are merciful, so they granted an end to this suffering by promising him that he will meet his queen again in another time in another place, will have another name and another face. She will be his life and his death.

This, they promised him, and he has nothing to do but wait.


	2. Chapter 2

"Wait, now let me guess. The next thing that you will say is that I am the lost queen, and that soon, my king would come walking through that door and take me away, am I right?" You asked, leaning towards the old woman who sat on the other side of the counter. The old woman looked at you, her eyes wide from insult. You just smiled and let out a chuckle at the look on her face.

"Jane Evans! I thought that you'd know better than to laugh at the sayings of an old woman," She said, a frown on her face. "I'll have you know that back in my days, I was a man eater and I was taken seriously."

"Yeah, sure thing, Grandma." You said, smiling as you refilled her glass with gin and wiped the table from the spills. Another man, who raised his hand, caught your attention, and you refilled his glass with brandy. You went back to the old lady that you were talking to, and studied her face. If every town had a crazy lady, then this woman would be Snydersville's crazy lady. No one knows her real name, so she's known as Grandma. She believed that before history even started in this world, there were creatures living in the world -elves, and dwarves of the like, and there were long wars and long moments of peace during their time. The most popular story that she ever told people was the story of the cursed king and the lost queen.

"You should not make fun of or disregard history, Jane Evans." She said, holding the glass of gin between her hands and sipping from it.

"Look, Grandma. History is World War 2, the Crusades, the Salem Trials, Hamilton!" You exclaimed, pointing your hand towards a news report about the hit musical. "What you say is just total bull." As you said that, a loud clap of thunder sounded outside your bar, and you jumped, looking out to see lightning lighting the dark, cloudy sky. That lightning was followed by the muffled sound of hard rain. You heard the old crone cackle.

"The gods are angry, Jane Evans. They expected better from you." Grandma said, taking another sip from her drink, and placing the glass back down on the counter. You glared at the old woman.

"Lady, there's only one God, and if He's angry with anyone, then it's probably you." You said, and the old woman just gave you a look that sent your arm hairs raising. You liked Grandma. You were one of the few people in this small town that actually tried to be friendly to her and succeeded.

But this woman could give you the chills in a snap.

"And don't you have anything better to do?" You asked, and the old woman just nodded and left her seat. Great, now you felt guilty for shooing her away. You looked back at Grandma and your brows shot up as she got an umbrella out of nowhere. You shook your head and rest your elbows on the countertop, switching the channels from sports, to dramas, to cartoons, but you can't find anything interesting. Your head snapped towards the door as it slammed open, the bell ringing loudly from the force of the man who opened it. If it were any regular day, you would have ogled at the man who entered the door. He would be in any woman's romantic fantasies -tall, dark haired, broad shoulders, neatly trimmed beard, and all that jazz. It didn't help that his polo stuck to his skin from the rain and his sleeves were rolled up. And you wouldn't know where to start with his voice -his rich, baritone voice would have made your knees buckle. You would have fell for him in an instant.

But the fact that he almost broke your door turned things the other way around.

"Hey, buddy, watch it! Doors with glass don't come cheap, you know! Especially with the state of this place." You exclaimed, glaring him down as he walked towards a customer.

"Sir, do you have a phone here?" The man asked, and the customer just pointed a shaky finger at you. You leaned on one foot and crossed your arms, biting your right cheek. It was a habit you always do when you're annoyed. The man turned to you, and was confused at first.

"Sure, don't mind the owner who knows this place like the back of her hand." You said, rolling your eyes, and the man leaned to you.

"Miss, do you have a phone?" He asked, and you raised a brow at him.

"A dollar for a phone call." You said. Judging by his look and his apparel, he wasn't from around here or any city near Snydersville. Tailored charcoal grey suit, neatly trimmed beard, well kept hair, despite its length, and a ring on his middle finger. With the way this man dressed, you could tell that he has more than a pretty penny to last a life time. He fished his pocket and slammed a bill in front of you, and what do you know? He's got Benjamins in his pocket like spare change.

"Hallway on the left, the stall beside the men's bathroom." You said, your grudge gone as you took the hundred dollar bill and he left, not even waiting for the change. His phone call took a while, since your customers have all but left, and you and him were the only ones left in the bar. You took a rag and started cleaning the tables, placing the chairs on top of them afterwards. When you finished with that, you swept the whole floor, and when you were in the middle of mopping, he went out. By the way he walked towards the bar counter and sat, it looks like his phone call went bad.

"One scotch." He said from behind his hands as he rubbed his face and combed his wet hair back. You left your mop, and went behind the counter, pouring him a glass of scotch.

"Cavalry's not coming?" You asked, raising a brow, but he just shook his head and downed his glass. You poured him another one.

"My car broke down, just on the outskirts of this town. Had to walk for an hour, and just now, my friend said that this town isn't on the radar."

"Oh, yeah. This town only shows up in a few maps, and I'm sure Google Maps ain't one of them." You said, and he groaned behind his palms.

"Is there a motel or an inn here somewhere?" He asked, and you shook your head.

"This town is small enough and so undiscovered that nobody new passes here." You explained, and you heard him mutter a 'great', before finishing his glass.

"Although, I could take a look at your car tomorrow." You offered, and he raised his brow.

"You're a mechanic?" He asked, and you shrugged.

"I know a few things. Our town's mechanic is off to a vacation, and he's not gonna be back until next month. I hope you're in no rush to go to wherever you're going," You said, and he sighed. "Look, mister, I gotta lock up in a while. Say, I'll lessen your series of unfortunate events, and what you drank is on the house. I'll throw in another bottle of beer." You said, and he gave another long sigh, and nodded in defeat. As you gave him the bottle, you gave him a small smile. He left, and you wished him luck to wherever he'll sleep.

When you closed your bar, the rain stopped pouring. You were walking back towards your apartment, when you heard an all too familiar click behind you and something hard sticking at your back.

"I'm only going to say this once. Turn around, open up your bar again, and give us all the money you have there." A voice said behind you. At first, you would have thought that it was that handsome stranger from the bar, but you would have recognized his baritone voice in an instant. You raised your hands in surrender, and slowly turned around. The man's face was covered, so you can't recognize him.

"Look, have you seen the state of that place? It's dying, man. I barely earn anything there. The cash in that bar isn't worth your time and effort." You said, trying to discourage him.

"Any cash is cash. Now, if you don't do something by the count of three, I'm gonna put a bullet between your eyes." He said, and you took a small step towards him.

"Hey, man. We can talk this out. I can give you a job, earn money the clean way, you know?"

"One."

"Man, it didn't have to come to this."

"Two."

"Are you sure you wanna count three?"

"Three."

By the time he had reached three, your training kicked in. You immediately grabbed the man's hand and swiped it to the side, causing him to fire the gun on the ground. You punched him on the face, but it wasn't enough to knock him out. He dropped the gun and got free from your grip and the both of you fought hand to hand. You ended up on the ground, with the robber straddling you. He had his hands around your neck and you struggled against him. From the corner of your eye, you saw the gun lying there, and you reached for it. Once you got a hold of it, you slammed the butt of the gun to your attacker's temple. This got him dazed, and you pushed him off you. You kneeled and fired two shots, each one aiming for his thighs. You straddled him and continued to slam the barrel of the gun to his temple until he passed out. You kneeled there panting as you checked his pulse from the neck, and you sighed in relief as you saw that it was there. You removed the belt of your pants and tied his hands behind him, and tied to belt to a nearby fence. You still felt the adrenaline rushing through your bloods. It had been a long time since you got into a fight. You held the gun in your hands, and the next events happened on pure reflex and adrenaline. You heard a deep voice behind you.

"Are you alright?"

And the next thing you knew, you were pointing the gun at the handsome stranger from awhile ago, with red liquid blooming from his shirt as he dropped dead on the ground.

* * *

 **Don't worry, guys XD Many more chapters to come! :D This scene is inspired by something that has been happening to Richard Armitage in his TV Series a lot XD I watched Strike Back and Berlin Station and in the first episodes, it hasn't even been 10 minutes yet, and he gets shot XD Anyways, this has been Beta'd by Elle Abel. She's a great author, if you're interested in HP fics. Check it out some time, while you're waiting for an update :)**

 **Anyways, I'd love to hear your reactions! And thank you for the lovely reviews you left me!**

 **~Gabrielle**


	3. Chapter 3

Anyone would panic at what you just did. You accidentally shot a man who tried to help you, and now he's bleeding to death --who wouldn't panic?

But you're not just anyone, now, weren't you?

Old instincts kicked in and you immediately knelt beside him, checking the wound, and his pulse. Thank God that there was a pulse, albeit a weak one. The bullet went straight through his chest, so you laid him to the side, so he won't cause any bloodstains on the sidewalk. You immediately looked for the bullet, and you found it by the bushes. You took it and kept it in your pocket, as to avoid evidence if the time comes. You went back to the man and using your phone, you turned on the flashlight, opened his closed eye, and pointed the light at his eye. You sighed in relief as his pupil shrunk immediately.

"Good," you muttered to yourself, and taking off the plaid polo you wore. Your white tank top did nothing to shield you from the cold night wind, but the life of another person was in your hands --complaining can come later. You wrapped it around the man's torso, keeping pressure on the wound on his chest. You sat him up, hung his limp arm around your neck while you wrapped your other arm around his waist, and lifted him up. You were used to lifting heavy things, thanks to your childhood, so lifting a huge man like him was a walk in the park. Your apartment block was just a street away, and you half dragged, half carried him there. Walking to your apartment building was easy, but the stairs were hell. You couldn't carry him up, so instead, you grabbed him from under his arms and dragged him all the way to the fourth floor. You made sure that his torso did not touch the ground, as not to leave any bloodstains, and you were sweating and panting heavily by the time you reached your floor. You wrapped your arm around his waist again and lifted him up, bringing him inside your apartment. You dropped him on your bed and unbuttoned his shirt. You checked again if he had a pulse, and surprisingly, he still did. It was odd, for a shot like that would have killed anybody.

You grabbed your med kit in the kitchen and you brought out some gauze, some antiseptic, and medical tape. At the moment, this is the best that you can think of. You didn't know who else could help you except for --

"Jane? Are you there?" you heard a voice outside, and your eyes widened. He could help you, but he can't see what you've done. If the man in your apartment dies, he can become an accomplice, and you can't have that. You grabbed a nearby towel and wiped your bloody hands and went to the door and opened it a bit. There stood Rick, your neighbor and your best friend since you moved into Snydersville. He was about your age, and he was the brainy type of friend. He came from a family that had lived in Snydersville since 1953, and never left it. Being a small town boy, he wanted a taste of the big city. So, he studied medicine for 6 years, but he couldn't take the city life, and moved back to Snydersville.

You slightly opened the door, and peeked behind it. You saw him there, his dark hair tousled, wearing his checkered pajamas and a Star Wars t-shirt. If you were looking for geeky, you were looking at him.

"Rick, what are you doing up so late?" you asked and gave him a small smile.

"I was binge-watching on Riverdale when I heard thuds up here. Are you alright?" He asked, and you gave him a shaky smile.

"Yeah, I'm good," you said, and he raised a brow at you.

"You don't look so good. You look exhausted. Do you need anything?" he asked when suddenly, you heard a groan from your bedroom. He immediately dropped his brow, and he looked at you, trying to deduce whatever it is that happened to you.

"I'm fine, thank you. I'll see you tomorrow, Rick. Good night," you didn't wait for an answer before closing the door, locking it, and rushing back to the bedroom. You looked at the man on your bed, and you saw that he was thrashing on your bed. You quickly got your med kit and straddled him to make him stop. You poured the antiseptic on his wound, and he thrashed so hard that you were pushed off him and you fell on the floor. You immediately straddled him again and covered his wound with gauze. You did the same to his back, and you ended up being thrown to your backside. You could tell that it was gonna hurt tomorrow. Once you managed to clean and dress his wounds, you laid back on your bed and let out an exhausted sigh. You didn't realize that your eyes were slowly closing, leading you to a dreamless night.

~*~

You woke up the next day, with dull light streaming through your curtained windows. You turned to the right and saw the man you shot sleeping beside you. He was breathing evenly now, which you found odd, yet comforting. You groaned as you stood up and went to your bathroom. You looked at yourself and you cringed at your bloodstained clothes. A shower would be the best thing now, you thought. You stepped in the shower, the hot water beating down on your back was nothing to the fear pounding in your heart. You almost killed a man yesterday, and there he was, unconscious on your bed at the moment. Your first instinct was to flee. Start a clean slate again, and start a new life – drive off in your maroon Mitsubishi box-type Lancer and never look back. You've done it before, and it was as easy as pie. However, with this town, it probably won't be as easy. You made a life here in Snydersville. You made friends, and people who you'd dare call family. It would be harder than the previous time. Maybe she can make an arrangement with the man when he wakes up.

"If he wakes up," you told yourself, and you slid down on the bathroom floor and rested your forehead on your knees. This man gave you a lot to think about.

~*~

Come breakfast time, you were still thinking about what to do. You sat on the chair beside the window that overlooked the intersection of your street. The town wasn't as busy as New York, or the other big cities, but it was busy in its own way. You held a mug of coffee on your hand and an untouched plate of pancakes on the other.

'To leave, or not to leave?' You thought, and you sighed, leaning on the glass of your window. You jolted up when the front door swung open, and in came Rick, with a paper bag which smelled like pastries from the local bakeshop. Every Sunday morning, Rick would come in during breakfast and bring you different kinds of breads and pastries from the local bakeshop. There were times that he'd bring you chocolate stuffed croissants, chicken pie that had creamy gravy inside, or cinnamon rolls with tons of frostings. Out of everything, the chicken pie was your favorite, but you didn't tell him that. You didn't want to feel like you were taking advantage of this man's kindness. Because of the shooting fiasco, you completely forgot that it was Sunday, and that Rick was coming over. It was a good thing that you shut the bedroom door. It also didn't look like the man you shot was going to rise anytime soon.

"Mornin'," he greeted, and he flashed his usual boyish smile. In this town, Rick was the tall, dark, and handsome beauty that the small town girls went crazy over. He was smart, lean, tall, had these deep green eyes, and had dimples on his cheeks when he smiled. And his teeth were a perfect set of white pearls. Who wouldn't swoon over him? Maybe it was the incident last night, or maybe it was the thought of leaving town that made you think of Rick in a different way – in a way that made your heart flutter.

"Morning, Rickie," you said, giving him a small smile. You watched him as he removed the carton in the paper bag and slid it across the table towards you. You caught it with your hand, and you immediately knew what he brought you. "Dear Lord, you're a saint, Rickie," you said, opening it and saying a short prayer before devouring half of the pie. You noticed something odd, and you looked up at Rickie, who sat across you, and you caught him staring at you.

"Okay, what's wrong, now?" you asked, and Rickie seemed to be shaken out of his stupor and he stood straighter.

"What? Nothing's wrong." He said, and he stood up to get himself a cup of coffee. You continued to eat your chicken pie, savoring the flavor, but this time, at a slower pace. Rickie sat across you, his fingers fidgeting around the mug of coffee he held, when he spoke.

"Jane, we've known each other for a while, haven't we?" he asked, and you scoffed.

"I think 'a while' is an understatement, Rickie," you said, as you took a sip from your coffee and checked the daily news on your phone.

"Well, whatever. The point is, I've been meaning to ask this for a while now," Rick said, and you hummed for him to continue. "Would you like to go out with me?"

"Rickie, we hang out often -- you don't need to wait for the right moment to ask—" Then you stopped dead in your tracks, realizing what Rick just asked. "Oh shit, this isn't a hangout, isn't it?" you asked and Rick smiled and shook his head no.

"Let me rephrase the question -- would you like to go out on a date with me?" He asked, and you felt lost – lost in his green eyes, lost in the situation you're in. Would you like to go out with him? He was handsome, polite, smart, and you've known each other for a long time. You were about to answer him, when the unexpected happened.

You heard the bedroom door open, the stranger going out of your room wearing only his pants. The gauze that you placed on his chest was gone, and the wound was gone. It was as if you never shot him. You looked at him, your eyes wide, and when you looked back at Rick, he looked equally as shocked.

"Well, good morning," the British baritone voice of the man broke through the silence of the room. You looked back and forth between the man and your best friend. You wanted to find out how on Earth did his wounds heal so fast, and at the same time, she wanted to explain to Rick that it was not what it looked like.

"Oh, shit. I am so sorry," Rick said, standing up, and scrambling away. "I didn't know that she had a boyfriend already, I am so sorry," he said, backing away, and you stood up to go after him.

"Wait, Rickie, it's not what it looks like!" You said, but he was having none of it.

"Look, I'm so sorry, I didn't know. I should've guessed last night. I'll see you around, Jane." He said, leaving your apartment without looking back. You shut the door, pressing your forehead to the door and clenching the doorknob tightly. You turned to look at the stranger, who was still standing by your bedroom door. You didn't care if he was British, or handsome, or had a body that looked like it was chiseled by the greatest sculptor alive.

"Are you alright?" You asked, and he shrugged.

"I am, thanks for asking." He said nonchalantly, a smug smirk appearing on his face.

"Good." You said, rushing towards him and landing the hardest punch you can throw on his left cheek.

~*~

 **Hey** **, guys !!! I'm back! XD So sorry for the lonv wait. I went to this awesome 4 day summer camp last week, and I was bombarded by family events when I came back. So I wrote this chapter in the middle of the night and was beta'd by the awesome Elle Abel.**

 **So what do you think of this chapter? While I was writing this, it kinda made me wanna eat chicken pie T-T**

 **Anyways, don't mind my cravings XD Leave a review and let me know what you think! :D**

 **~Gabrielle**


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